


Conflict

by Maxwellthebean



Category: Original Work
Genre: Amnesia, Multi, Necromancy, Original Character(s), Rebellion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:49:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27705814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maxwellthebean/pseuds/Maxwellthebean
Summary: don't really know where this is going just writing instead of paying attention.I find myself in a world with no memories and am unable to move





	1. Welcome to our world

The steeper the climb the further the fall. Those lines rung in my head as I lay there. Would I be able to function after this, I don’t know? My body refuses to move. The leaves above can move, the cloud can move, the small creatures scurry across the ground, so why, why can’t I? Rustling beside my ear, I hear it, I feel, just as it feels me. It touches my motionless body and climbs across my shoulder, and perches on my right ear. Claws digging into soft flesh of face and ear. The creature stands on its hind legs putting all its weight onto my cheek bone. It jumps off and climbs the tree and hides among the hundreds of branches. My only friend for all of 5 seconds is gone. My left arm I can feel it, it is in pain. A rock, I feel it digging into my thigh. Pain, I lie here alone, unable to move and all I can feel is pain. Pain is good though, right? Maybe it means I will be able to move soon, maybe it means I’m still alive, or maybe that I never lost my sense of touch. All my other senses are there I can see, smell, taste, hear, and touch; I just can’t move. But why, why can’t I move? My arm, it hurts more than my other body parts. Maybe I fell from a high place and broke it, but the only high things around are trees and why would I have been in a tree? One, two, three, four fowl flew through the breach in the tree’s lining.  


Footsteps! Are they human? If they are human, are they here to help? Do they know I’m here? If they know I’m here, how? Questions now loaded my brain, I wanted to move away and help myself from potential danger, but I couldn’t. I was still burdened by gravity and my inability to move. They’re getting closer. My mind panics, my feet and hands start to freeze, my jaw and throat are now tight and sore. They speed up, of all the things those feet could have done, they speed up. They’re receding, they’re running away from me. Why? I couldn’t have done anything; do I look dead enough for them to run away? Was this my fate, was something bigger than I or them here too? I lie stiller than I already was waiting for a sound, but nothing came, until it did.  


A man, a man jumps from the trees and lands in front of my helpless body. His back is turned, but he had to have been able to see me through the trees. He doesn’t move, just stands, back arched greatly, knees bent, toes digging into the earth, hands open at his sides ready to grab something at a moment’s notice. He waited, watched for anything, but nothing came, this time nothing came. He stands up straight and twists his shoulder back so he can see my face. I can hear his spine popping all those little air pockets in his cartilage breaking. He spins on his left heel and turns to face me.  


“Welcome to The War” his voice sounds as though he just spoke for hours straight, I can’t figure why it would be so quiet and rough. He looks almost as if his impaired voice didn’t bother him a bit. I was attempting to study his face when it suddenly got much closer. With one swift movement his knees buckle and bring himself to the earthy floor below. He now squats in front of me.  


“What are you doing here, all alone, damaged, and helpless?” his words sound like he wants harm to come to me, but his tone and face make it seem more worried.  


I just stare and blink; he does the same. I can’t speak, will he understand that, will he notice. He doesn’t notice; he just picks me up and holds me! Like, my guy, why? I am some strange guy you just met in the woods. I could be some trained assassin, a criminal running from the law, I could have been a dead body. You don’t just pick up men you meet in the forest, unless. Is this a trap? Is he going to use me in some sick experiment? Is he some sort of masochist maybe? Maybe he thinks I’m a criminal and wants me to hurt him to get off to some sick fantasy.  


He has stopped, a door, it’s creaking, I am falling, again. I fall onto something soft but a little firm. Is it a couch, is it a bed, is it the table he’ll cut me up on? It’s a bed. He falls beside me and turns away; his breathing slows and softens till I can’t hear it anymore. He’s asleep or is he faking? This would be a great chance to escape, but I can’t move. I could try to move. It doesn’t work. Maybe I should try to sleep, this task could be much easier if I were comfortable. My face is straight up, and my arms are bent in odd angles, but nevertheless I try. I close my eyes and slow my breathing; I allow my mind to wander to places to the events before the fall. GAH! I can’t recall anything before it happened, not my name, my age, or my family. Why have the spirits chosen this way to punish me for past sins I may not have committed?  


It is now dark out, the crickets scream, the wolves howl, the owls call, and he stirs. I’m trying to sleep, and he keeps rolling around. He has grasped the blankets and held them close to him, he looks like he’s trying to aggressively rock a baby to sleep. I wonder what he is dreaming about. Is it a family member or a friend he is holding close? He stopped. This would be a good thing if he hadn’t grasped me in return. This is hot; he’s burning. How does this guy live with so many blankets when his skin is so hot to the touch? He reminds me of a scared child, clutching, whining, burying his face in the gap between my shoulder blades. I want to wake him up from whatever appears to be troubling him; I don’t like to experience people struggle. His voice hitches and he let go. He gets out of bed and walks and doesn’t stop. He just keeps going around and around; his grasping at nothing opening and closing, pulling in and pushing out in the air in front of him. Is he panicking, is he just tiring himself out, I don’t know?  


It’s been ten minutes and he hasn’t stopped. Does this happen every night or just tonight? He glances over to me and sees my eyes following him as he damages his floor.  


“it’s nothing to worry about this is normal.” His words come out annoyed and quiet. Despite what he says this kind of behavior is not normal and I have proof. No one I know walks like that at night. Wait, I don’t even know anyone besides us. Could his behavior be normal? I mean, I’m the guy who can’t even move, much less pace for this long. He notices I’m still watching as I am unable to turn away, scoffs, and stops walking to climb over me and face the wall. He throws the blanket over me but keeps a great distance from me. With the blankets over me and the hours without sleep combine my body and mind finally start to slow down and I fall asleep.  


The door opens and gives way to a thud of something hitting the floor. He’s talking to himself, so not only does he pace at night but he talks to himself. Out of all the people to find me and care for me, I got him. I hear plates sliding and clattering onto the table. Was he expecting company? He turns  
“Oh, so finally awake.” his voice, once again displaying two emotions, mockery and stifled excitement. What did he mean by “finally”? it’s still dark out, the crickets still scream for meaning in life. Did he forget I can’t talk or is talking to make me feel real, either way I am unable to respond in a way he’ll understand.  


He walks over and picks the blanket off me and exposes my body to the frigid cold of 4:30 weather. His hands slip beneath me and pick me up; he walks me over to the table and sits me sideways in an armchair. While the gesture was meant to keep me from falling out of the chair, the floor was probably more comfortable than having a wooden bar dig into your back. His back is a sight I’ve grown quite familiar with. His hair dancing on his shoulders, his shirt loose and covering his frame, his shorts, how can we wear something like that without his legs getting cold. I look at myself, a task I hadn’t been able to do. Black jeans with rips, were they ripped when I bought them or from the fall. I guess we’ll never know. As my eyes trail my legs it makes me wonder what the rest of me looks like. Am I tall or short, skinny or nah? Oh, the questions we think of when there’s nothing else to do. Will I have an identity crisis from not knowing who I am or who anyone around me is?  


“Breakfast is done.” He speaks to no one yet everyone at the same time. His eyes meet mine. It’s not romantic “oh, take me stranger!” it’s just eyes meeting, cold and unshowing. He puts a plate next to me and cuts an egg. Now, I thought that egg was for me, but nooo, it was for him always was always will be. That’s just life, I guess. Not being able to move, not being able to speak, not being able to eat. By the looks of it, it looks like he hasn’t eaten in a while. He looks like he’d been away for some time. His hands were all calloused and had cuts in them, his knuckles looked like they were filed down, and his arms were full of bruises and thorn cuts. What did this guy do before I had come? My eyes look up to see the bottom of his head and throat. I see the egg going down his throat as it pushes at his walls. He gets up and drops his knees a little lower than face height.  


“Do you want some?” Of course, I want some you fool. I haven’t eaten in I don’t know how long, and you just ate on top of me. I had no way to convey this other than making my eyes beg, I felt pathetic. I’m a grown man completely at the mercy of some stranger begging for an egg. “I’ll take that as a yes and move on.”  


He adjusts me to sit up, apparently, he doesn’t want me to choke, we’ll see how long that lasts. Now that I am sitting upright, he doesn’t know what to do. This man doesn’t know how to get a fork, put it in the egg, and feed me. It isn’t that hard. Has he never been around a child before? I look down at him in disappointment, only to see he’s looking up in disappointment as well.  


“This is tiresome.” His monotonous tone speaks monotonously. Does he really believe that feeding me is more tiresome than not being able to do anything? I now stare at him. How dare he say I’m burdening him; he chose to pick me up, this was his choice. I wanted so bad to take that fork and add more holes to his body. The audacity of this man to say that to me. I wanted that egg and now I’m not even getting a bite. He turns to make something liquid, a hot liquid, in a glass cup. A knock at the door steals my attention from him. A woman walks through the door, she takes off her shoes and places them in the nook by the front of the bed.  


“So, you found another one, did you?” Her voice is harder to describe than his. It's less monotonous but still close. I look at them standing beside each other. Are they related? Their messy black hair, freckled skin, monotone voices, and their height are very similar. They turn to see me in the chair. “That’s the one? He’s a bit different looking, don’t you think?” She gets closer and scrutinizes me from head to toe.  


“I’m aware he looks different, but he’s got the same problem as the others. He doesn’t move or speak. I found him about a Micha from here. He was just lying on the ground; a hunter was about to get him.”  


“Put him on the bed, and I’ll start preparing.” Preparing was not a word I wanted to hear from these two. What did they plan to do to me after I was “prepared”, what did preparing even mean?  
Once again, this man’s hands are clutching me close to him before he drops onto the bed. My body bounces lifelessly as I topple out of his grasp. I am left there temporarily before my shirts get taken from me and something touches my back. A KNIFE! IT WAS A KNIFE TOUCHING MY BACK! It splits my skin, and my blood spills over into the valley where my spine is. It travels and hits my pants hem and stops. I hear something like a jar opening. Fingers run along the open wound, it stings and burns. My body lurches away and I jump up to protect my tender wound. My back, my precious back.  


“Why’d you do that?” My voice coming out higher than I imagined. Voice? My voice? “I can talk! I can move!” I rejoiced I leapt from the bed the blood in my back now going down my leg, but I didn’t care. 

“Movement, I can do it. I can do all the things.” My legs spun themselves as I ditzed across the dirt floor of the cabin.  


“Good, now leave.” The man’s voice commanded.  


“Wait, why? I don’t know this place, I don’t remember anything.” The joy I felt drains out of me and leaves me an empty shell of nothing. His eyes, I peered into them again looking for laughter but instead got slaughter.  


“No one ever does. Not even we know how we got here, but for everyone’s safety you need to leave.” There is no haha-funny-joke- look behind her eyes just sympathy. I thought maybe I could use that, but I decided not to use an innocent person to advance myself.  


“Fine, I will go. I will make my own cabin in the woods and it’ll be great, and I’ll rescue people from hunters. They’ll continue to live with me even after they’re healed.” I yell out as I turn to leave grabbing a pair of shoes that looked like they might fit.  
The door shut behind me, as most doors do. But this door hurt, when it closed, I lost the only human friend I thought I had made. I try to shake it off, but I can’t. As I keep walking, I keep seeing new things. Technically, everything is new, but this is like a sense of Deja-vu. Some animals look familiar, like the creatures of the air, or those who scatter the leaves in the ground. It is almost soundless while I walk; the leaves still rustle in the trees and crunch as I step on them. I am beginning to wander aimlessly as if I wasn’t doing that before.  


It is starting to get lighter out and I can see where I’m going. I’ve been on a slight plateau. The sun glints on the trees. For the first time I am seeing what this world looks like, and it is looking nice. I continue my path, straight.  


“I wonder If I will meet anyone on my way to meet people. That sounds weird, but I said what I mean. Will I need weapons? Will this be dangerous? What am I saying? Of course, this will be dangerous. I am an only man, without any form of protection to speak of. All I can hope is to find someone to help me get back to where I belong.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> figuring out how things work in this world i have found myself in

My legs. I wish I could go back to when I thought I couldn’t feel anything. The pain of wandering aimlessly for a day does not feel as good as one might think. It has started to get dark again and I still haven’t found any other human life forms or even any signs that there are others. Seeing those two would imply that there were others somewhere; they even said there were others. But if there are others then why do they stay hidden. God Damn, I want to just climb one these thousands of trees around me and just look from the skies to find what I am looking for. But alas, as I have discovered my arms aren’t near the size required to wrap around these trees and climb up. So, I will be forced to keep walking. But for how long is the question because it is getting very dark and toes are about to disconnect and stub me.  


I have decided I want to stop, but this decision, like all others, has consequences. The consequences of this decision are quite high, I could get killed, I could get kidnapped, I could get robbed of what little I already have. The possibilities of things that could happen to me in a strange place are nearly endless, and I would rather not find out any more options. I will keep walking, and walking, and walking. Walking is getting kind of tedious. Tedious is a strange word. Screw it, I don’t care if I die, I want to rest. My body is falling onto the earth below me; it feels strange. I thought it would hurt, just letting my body fall and hit the ground but it almost feels soft. I touch the dirt below me, and this is not dirt, this is a couch.  


Why am I on a couch, whose couch is this, how did I get here? Did I fall asleep? That would be impossible; I was just in a forest. I should get up and figure out where I am this time. A window, I can look out of those. My light hits my eyes. This hurts: it hurts a lot. My reflexes kick in and my eyes close. The light still hurts even through my eyelids, but it is subsiding and getting more bearable. I have opened my eyes and am now looking out the window. A town! Here, right in front of me is what I’ve been looking for, people.  


The door is opening, and I run out and the air, oh, the cool air is blowing against my face. The people are everywhere, they move around and live their lives. My bare feet feel strange against the worn road. Suddenly, the pain I had felt in my legs falls away and I can run and explore my new surroundings. I don’t know where I am, where am I?  


“Can someone tell me which city I am in?” I speak loud and clear and yet no one responds. I say I again but there is still no response. I go up to people and they don’t respond. “Do I not exist here?”  


Thoughts are coming into my brain. They scream. “Answer me!” with every call more desperate than the last. The people turn to stare, to scrutinize me, to judge me. Their faces are large and suddenly all around me. Their eyes are staring deep into me beyond what even I can see of myself. “Leave here.” Their voices shrieked talking over each other, blurring together, and getting louder. I back myself against a wall. They walk closer and closer, their eyes never leaving me. I can feel every ounce of hate and judgement they have for me, a man they never met. As They get closer, I turn to run away, as I turn the corner to go around the building my foot hits a misplaced crate and my body sprawls to the ground.  


I hurriedly pull myself to my feet and start to run again before my feet slow and come to a stop. This is not where I was before, but that doesn’t matter. I need to get myself to calm down before I have a full-blown panic attack. I stumble around this large building looking for anybody who can help me. Doors, doors, doors. Why does one house need so many doors? I open one and it leads me nowhere but to an empty room. Maybe the next door has something in it. The knob feels long in my hand. My hand pushes it down and pulls the door out. I feel drawn into the room. Walking into the room feels familiar like I’ve done this before. My reflection in the mirror looks lonely.  


“Do I really look like that?” I press my hands onto different parts of my body and watch them move in the mirror in front of me. My head, my chest, my legs all look so strange as if they aren’t mine. They don’t feel real, like they aren’t mine just a flesh cover I must wear. I walk away from the reflection. My hands run along the end of the bed, the material feeling tingly to my fingertips. I leap backwards and fall into the bed. It feels nice and inviting as my tired body relaxes. My head tilts to the left to look at the door as I crawl forward to put my legs on. I pull a pillow towards me and clutch close to my chest. My legs lie almost on top of eachother, knees pressing eachother, head buried into the pillow to block out the light. This is how it should be, quiet and still. My eyes stare into the blackness of the pillow for a short time, as my eyes slowly got heavier and heavier. Everything faded out and a ringing started in my ears as my head felt large and my body felt small. All of reality faded to black as a new reality started to form.  


Noises. Not just regular noises, but loud noises. Getting up I feel the heat escaping from under the blankets leaving me vulnerable to the chilled air in the room. My toes felt hard against the soft fabric beside the bed. As I begin to push myself off the bed the door opens.  


“Just woke up I assume.” I whip my head around and stare at the being who just barged into the room I just stumbled into. “awaking late, like always. Never were known for your punctuality. Come on, you’re going to make us the last ones there.”  


So, what is with my luck and getting woken up by rude people, like seriously, both times. I’m this close to losing it. Either way I should get up and find him again. My feet now hold all my weight on them. I am being supported by 56 bones out of 206 over 25% are in my feet. That is weird. What else is weird is that I know that. Why do I know that? Whatever, I can’t be bothered to care right now, I must find my awakener. I grab my shoes and turn out the door.  


“Ah, my head. What the hell?” I jump up from my position on the floor to see a man on the floor.  


“Oi, watch it! ‘No respect in this house’ she said. Well, she was right.”  


His muttering hearable from however high up I was. I reach my hand down to help him get up. Oh, he’s actually taking it, his hands are warm, really warm. I don’t want to seem weird, but they are really warm. He’s staring, why is he staring at me like that? I jump back. I had been rubbing his hands. Does he think weirdly of me now or am I still just a stranger to him? Say something, coward.  


“Ich bin zu müde, um mit einem Mann der Neigung so früh am Morgen zu tun.” German. Bastard, is he trying to confuse me or just keeping his negative thoughts to himself. Either way I don’t care. He is turning to walk away; and I haven’t asked my question yet.  


“Wait, where are we headed…so…early.” My voice falters, those eyes, mmmmm, those eyes. What do they do? They make a connection with me in seconds as he stares at me with intent to kill. Absurd, but I have a weakness for eyes.  


“We are going killing, there have been problems in the north-eastern part of Dramol that need to be quelled.”  
“Problems like animal control, or like, you know, people problems?” I am always in the mood for a bit of hunting every now and again; but people just seems like a bit of a stretch from my usual game.  


“Yes.” A one-word answer to a two-part question, I would ask again but I know he wouldn’t answer clearly.  


“Get your gear and let us head out. We have to be with the rest of the group.”  


“Group? Like an army or something?”  


“Army is much too big, but, yes, something similar.”  


“Something similar. How big are we talking? Like, twenty, thirty people or hundreds?”  


“Around fifty. Now, go and get your stuff.” His huff seemed not angry, just stressed out. Was this hunt bigger than others or was it because we are hunting people. Either way, he is stressed.  


Standing by the horses is a man, an average sized man, looking similar to Poneke. Were they related? Father-son, brother-brother, my bet is father-son by the look Poneke is giving him. Is this maybe why he is stressed out? Is his father overbearing? I’ll figure it out soon enough as we get closer to man.  


“Poneke, hurry up. We can’t be burdened to be late.” A hoarse voice comes out of his throat and into the air around him. Poneke quickens his pace ever slightly, I follow. As we are getting closer, I notice someone in the barn behind him.  


“Who is that in the barn behind him?” I ask quietly so the man doesn’t hear.  


“Brother Aarushi. He is the one who keeps everyone in order around here since father won’t do it, that damn coward.” His voice was full of spite. I can assume it is for his father, he doesn’t seem to like him very much.  


“I have only seen two people in the whole house, who does he have to keep in track? You, your father, the other workers?” my voice rises in question. I am more than certain he doesn’t like my number of questions.  


He scoffs and looks at me as we walk, “you really like to hear your own voice, huh. If you are genuinely curious, I guess I might as well tell you. Apart from Father, Brother Aarushi, and I, we also live with my two brothers and three sisters. We are all a big, happy family, but nobody knows that. To them we are just a mess of affairs.” He stops in front of his father and straightens. I straighten with him, in body and in body only.  


“Your friend will come along for this one. He needs practice in this kind of activity.” Practice he says why would I need practice in killing people, strange thoughts but whatever. “Get him a weapon and a horse he will need a shield to see how out of practice he is.”  


Out of practice, bastard, I have never killed in my life how can he even say that. Maybe I used to hunt and just forgot about it. I forgot a lot and now I have to learn how to kill people all over again. How exhausting.  


“Come with me, I will show you the weapons of choice for you.” Poneke, I feel betrayed even you are going to make me kill people you should know this isn’t my style. “I am just guessing, but you look quite weak. Am I right?”  


His eyes are piercing straight through me. I haven’t felt this threatened in a long time. I know I am quite weak in the arms, but he doesn’t have to make me say it. “Maybe, maybe not. I just happen to prefer lighter weapons  


I feel his gaze on me again. Is he thinking of a come-back? He opens a door, grabs my hand, and pulls me in. “where are we going?” His hand tightens and he speeds up, we turn a corner and he thrust me forward into another room. I am thrown backwards into the room and expect to hit hay from the looks of the room but instead I fall onto rocks and moss.  


“It’s dark. How am I in the middle of the woods again, is this the same place I was when I fell asleep?” ugh, I am not energetic enough for this shit. What is happening. You know what, I don’t care. I am going to keep walking and hopefully find more people.


End file.
